


The one where Batdad dads Poison Ivy

by oddopus



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Weather, Comfort, F/F, Gen, Mentioned Harleen Quinzel, the girls are bout Dick Grayson's age here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21766900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddopus/pseuds/oddopus
Summary: Gotham climate sucks so our resident botanist is paid a visit by the Batman himself. He also has the tendency to dad the shit out of people.
Relationships: Pamela Isley & Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 184





	The one where Batdad dads Poison Ivy

Pamela Isley vaguely heard a distant knock echoing from her broody lair. She rested her tired head flat on one stretched arm, the vigorous plants once wrapping her like a faerie crown now drooping along red hair in muted melancholy. Pamela found not one streak of energy in herself to even seek the intruder, or perhaps a visitor considering their courtesy of knocking. A creak notified that the unannounced guest had invited themselves into the greenhouse and the plants further the corner of her eyes wiggled to caution her so.

“Poison Ivy,” a deep grumble usually haunting the criminals of Gothamite streets was now steeped with a warm concern. Admittedly, their relationship, at times partnership as of late, had grown amicable since the construction of the greenhouse, still Pamela had found none of their past experiences would have prepared her for the care the Batman was extending to her. She stippled a chuckled. Stranger to the doting fatherhood of his, she was not, as Nightwing had seen to that, and for all the times she rolled her eyes at the former Robin’s subtle brags, the amusement dawned now that the attention and warmth were directed at her. “What do you want, Bats?” Pamela tried to bite out the sounds with as much disdain as she could, but the line ended up without a drip of malice.

“You don’t seem well.” She could hear the eyes on the mask squinting, the scrutiny prickles to her skin. Batman’s sight drifted over their surrounds to her botanic children. Pamela tried to swallow her budding unease and shame, if not for letting her beloved’s lush green reduced to an ashy shade then for crumbling to a useless heap herself. As though they could sense her lamenting, the lethargic vines nearby dropped their tips on her head to lend their comfort.

Pamela propped her cheek on her arm. It appeared she had been energized by the Bat’s company somehow. “Any other observants you want to share?”

The Batman mused her movement for a moment, “Quinn came freaking out. She said you were unresponsive.”

Guilt stabbed at Pamela’s stomach. She hadn’t even been aware Harley had dropped by.

The soil was just a layer too draped in fertilizer and the top of the dome decorated with colorful confetti grated at her mind.  
“It’s just the weather. Dry season,” the antiheroine rushed out an excuse.

“You weren’t this bad last year?”

“Climate change?” Pamela scowled. The inquisitiveness of the Bat must have been the trademarked embodiment of infringement of privacy, “And Gotham has a poisonous air, B.” Now she just threw words into a blender at this point, half resenting her wits being snatched away in her sorry state and half perturbed by the vulnerability she allowed to the face of a former enemy. She missed Harley dearly.

“Humidifier and Purifier, then?”

Despite herself, she smirked a little at the suggestions. The streaks of villainy would never completely vacate the veins of Poison Ivy, it seemed, and if she could milk the money out of the infamous Gotham vigilante, she would, except the man himself had been generous with his money and his assistance with her greenhouse. His righteousness had been an immense source of annoyance and how he managed to be even more so of a hassle agreeing with her raison d'être, she would never know.

“Decapitate polluters” scowled Pamela.

“I won’t stand for homicide.” The usual threat was barely above a whisper today. Did she look that much pitiful? Anyhow, it felt like a petulant child patiently scolded.

“Everything else’s not off-limits then?”

“Essentially.” The Bat shrugged, which Pamela regarded with contempt. She must have lost her villainous edge for the Bat to allow her such leeway. She loathed even more the mutual understanding between them how much she had reigned her misanthropic conducts in these days, for which the Bat would occasionally aid her plan in reimbursement. Frankly, she detested being leashed like a tamed animal and, when the warm sun shone on her children again, Pamela would teach the Bat she’s an opponent he should be cautious of and he had better tread their allegiance with great caution.

“Have you considered an outskirt lair? There’s a nice plain Southward.” Batman tentatively offered, undoubtedly stiff in his footing testing the water.

“You wish,” scoffed Pamela “I will never leave Gotham until those parasites are exterminated.”

“I’m talking about your base, Pamela.” The man resisted the urge to scowl and massage his temple. None of his children took well to the gesture, “Just look over the file.” He offered a clear file. A plant nearby spurted some acidic substance and the documents was an ashy heap on the ground. He retrieved another file in replacement, this time with a case more protective apparently. What would the man be without all the paranoia? Pamela rolled her eyes.

The Bat gripped the file for a while, musing over the appropriate wordings she would guess.

“Quinn was distressed.” He breathed out finally “I wouldn’t doubt that she was seconds away from a panic attack when I departed. And you already know what a mess she is normally.” Pamela knew. Bringing up Harley wasn’t fair play on the Bat’s behalf. It hadn’t slipped her mind that she must have given Harley the scare of her life and hadn’t even known about it. For the girl to freak out to the Bat, of all people, Pamela couldn’t even imagine to touch on how broken she must have been.

“Relocation is not the same as admitting defeat. To advance and succeed, a secured base is a staple.” On the plus side, she knew how Batman parented Robin tête-à-tête now. And it’s fucking annoying. If only Pamela had thought to record this and laugh about it with Harley later.

“Yada Yada, cease you preaching, Batdad.” Her vines waved in the vague direction of the visitor.

“Sorry,” back to usual brooding he went “I’m overstepping my boundaries. We wouldn’t want you to wilt away, is all, especially when there are alternatives.” No wonder his Robin kept trying to leave the nest, the helicopter parenting was downright suffocating.

“We’ll see.”

Pamela heard rustling behind her. Batman had settled down nicely, his cape acting as a makeshift seat on the ground.

“What are you doing?” incredulous was her tone.

“I send Quinn back to her apartment for the night. She’s worried you would be without company, and supervision.”

“She’s worried?”

“Very much so.”

“I must have scared her.” The torture of hurting a loved one was not kind on the soul.

“She’s more stable now that you’re conscious and she knows what happened.” Pamela heard some more rustle, accompanied by the calming sound of liquid pouring. She turned her head to a warm mug, eyeing such with uncertainty and silent probe. “It’s herbal tea,” offered Batman.

“Thanks.” She took a sip of the aromatic and relaxant drink. Elation warmed her mind as she listed the ingredients detected like a Christmas puzzle. The mix of southern tropical and arid botanies were not her expertise, by any means, and that would serve to only invigorate her intellectuals further. “I wouldn’t think you the type for these.” Her friends had always judged having her a spot too soft for plants and they wouldn’t know how right they were considering how she was barely fighting back a smile now.

“It’s Robin and Black Bat certified.” Batman sounded smug, as he always did mentioning his kids. You just had to know where to listen.

“hm? You don’t have a Robin to supervise tonight?” Pamela batted an eyelash. She’s, admittedly, profoundly incompatible with the newest Robin and had always been verbal about that, chasing Robin out every time the vigilante pair visited her lair. The brat was a ball of torrid desert and hostility, basically her nemesis rolled into one short spurt of a demon spawn.

“He’s capable and can manage for the night.” Very dignified of a brag there.

“Can’t believe I’m gonna have to thanks the brat and Nightwing for lending me their dad. The little shits are gonna be so smug.” She could already imagine the shit-eating grin Nightwing would spot. “Sell me the farmhouse, B?” Her vines seemed keen on the idea, wrapping the file when she was barely finished with her request.

“I record all details in the documents. Maybe you should discuss it with Quinn?”

“What’s with you and Harley?” Pamela arched an eyebrow.

“Not much.” The Bat shrugged which looked stupid with the domineering cape stuck under his ass.

He took a sip from his own mug, looking too calm for Pamela’s liking.

“So,” He dragged the words and our esteemed, albeit currently disadvantaged, Poison Ivy felt the physical reincarnation of dread in her system. He mimicked her eyebrow arching with unmasked amusement “engaged, huh? I didn’t take you for the grandiose type.”

_”what?” ___

“Your fiancée _flaunts_.” 

___Another day another (ex) villain terrorized._ _ _

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___(But honestly, the mental image of Harley plunging atop Gotham’s skyscrapers up to no good mischiefs flashing her ring and stuffing it right in the face of the big bad Batman? It warmed Pamela and she wished that she would see her fiancée soon.)_ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> I make Batman support Poison Ivy's work because climate change is a real threat that he should definitely fight. Also make my man a good dad so DC can suck their edgy ass somewhere else. I'd love your comments, as always.


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